The Train
by seraphmor
Summary: When an aspiring rationalist boards the Polar Express. One-shot.


He looked down at his calculations one more time. The assembled evidence- mall Santas on strike; pictures of children pulling off Santa's beard; the barren state of the North Pole; the fact he had never seen Santa deliver presents to his house, all of those years he had lain in his bed awake all night- combined with the low prior probability, given by Occam's razor, of the existence of a large bearded man delivering presents to every child on Earth every Christmas Night- he didn't want to be one to assume conspiracy, but it seemed that Bayes' theorem was pointing him towards one conclusion: Santa Claus was not real.

Perhaps there were better hypotheses, that he had not yet tested- but there were his parents, coming up the stairs, ushering his sister to bed. He launched himself onto his mattress, wrapping himself in his sheets- his parents peeked in the door, whispering to each other- "when he would wait up all night"... something about magic- and they were gone. He could get up again, resume his maths... But he was tired, so tired. And if he was going to have to modify his beliefs in the morning, it would be better if he had a night's sleep behind him. He rolled over and closed his eyes.

* * *

He woke up to a steam whistle. 23:47.

There were no train tracks in the road, yet here was a train. He noticed he was confused.

When the man dressed in a conductor's uniform emerged and invited him onboard- "to THE NORTH POLE!"- he didn't hesitate a moment. Though he doubted they were headed to the North Pole.

There were other children onboard. He thought there was something strange about them, but he couldn't think of it. He sat by himself, looking out the window and wondering about his situation. Maybe this was all a dream- that would make a lot of sense. But just as soon as the possibility appeared to him, it left again. Not worth considering, his brain told him. Move on to other thoughts.

The conductor went around to collect tickets. Remarkably, one had appeared in his nightgown pocket. Strong Bayesian evidence in favor of this being a dream... But he didn't give it much thought. The conductor used his hole punch to stamp out two letters in the ticket. "A" almost in one corner, and... and a backwards "D", in the opposite one. There was something he was missing, but he didn't think of it. 23:51.

A while later, they were served hot chocolate. It was warm and rich and delicious.

The train stopped to let some caribou pass. It was the first time he had seen reindeer, and it was wonderful.

He thought the train would crack the ice as they skidded over an ice lake, but they made it safely to the other side. That was some more evidence for... for whatever his hypothesis was... There were more exciting things to think about.

Soon, they were at the North Pole. The conductor was pleased that they were ahead of time; 23:49. The city square was full of children and little elves. An enormous sack full of presents was lowered onto a red sleigh- large, but not large enough to contain gifts for all the children in the world. Twelve gigantic reindeer lined up in front of the sleigh. They would shake their reins, making the bells ring beautifully.

Santa came out of a building and walked to the sleigh. Everyone applauded and screamed. Santa turned and scanned the crowd, his eyes settling on... his eyes settling on him.

He walked up and sat on Santa's lap.

"What do you want for Christmas?"

A numb look, a misremembered response.

Santa laughed, and shook his head. The boy walked away, embarrassed and humiliated, as everyone looked at him.

This made no sense.

And just like that, he was lucid.

The dream twisted around him. The warped dimensions, which he had so blindly ignored, stuck out as jagged misrenderings. The train stretched impossibly long; the elves, the children, they were all the same... the conductor was Santa? Evidence for a hypothesis. Predictions. If this was a dream...

With a snap of his fingers, the boy rose into the air and flew to the top of the train. Strong Bayesian evidence. With a thought, a traveling companion appeared next to him: a hobo. The same template as the conductor and Santa, he noticed with displeasure. This was a dream; he could change it. The hobo's face changed to a new one, one he'd not seen before. There was hot chocolate.

The sky was dark and filled with stars. They all shone brightly, but, when he focused, one was brighter than the others. The tracks in front of the train popped off the ground and grew upwards, stretching impossibly high, converging on that bright star. Smoke billowed from the pipe; the train moved.

Space wasn't as cold as he thought it might be.

* * *

He woke in his bed. 05:38. His calculations were scattered on the floor by his nightstand. He sighed. Weak Bayesian evidence for nothing.


End file.
